The Case of The Fragile Mind
by Orlaine24
Summary: It begins with an explosion and leads Sherlock to doubt his own abilities and fear for the safety of his best friend. "It wasn't the pounding in his head that woke John Watson, or the dust slowly filling his lungs; it was the sound of his friend's voice filling his ears from somewhere far away"
1. Chapter 1

**Aftermath**

It wasn't the pounding in his head that woke John Watson, or the dust slowly filling his lungs; it was the sound of his friend's voice filling his hears from somewhere far away. Blinking the dirt from his eyes John raised his head groggily and tried to take in his surroundings. It took him all of his strength to focus just for a few seconds. He could make out bricks and glass and a tall figure making his way through the rubble. He collapsed back into unconsciousness before the figure reached him as the blackness overwhelmed him.

Sherlock was carefully making his way through the ruins of the building they had been standing in searching for his friend. He called out his name and saw a figure stirring in the distance. He had almost reached John when he saw him slump back against what remained of the wall. Fearing for John, he rushed to his side taking a mental note of every cut and bruise visible as well as his heart rate and breathing; which he noted were a bit not good. He could hear the siren in the distance and hoped they would reach them in time. Sherlock knew that he was in just as much danger as John but at this present moment in time he didn't care. That was knew…Sentiment was not a word many would associate with Sherlock Holmes but he had learned that alone could not always protect him and John was a dab hand at saving his life.

The paramedics arrived and listened to Sherlock before pulling John out of the rubble and placing him in the back of the ambulance and placing Sherlock in another. This was protocol and for once Sherlock didn't argue. He didn't have the energy for a lesson on why it would be more suitable for him to travel with John. Instead he focused whatever energy he had on trying to work out the events which had led to the building collapsing down on top of them not half an hour previous.

They reached the hospital within ten minutes and Sherlock was wheeled down the corridor to a private ward which he was to share with John. Here Sherlock sat in silence, the cogs turning in his mind putting together the puzzle piece by piece. They had been there for a case; that much was true. He had told John it was a simple open and shut case but in reality the mystery went deeper than he had originally anticipated. He had been interrogating a seemingly unsuspecting witness when the rumble of an explosion began to filter through. As far as he could tell said witness scarpered at that precise moment obviously aware of what was just about to occur. Sherlock, however, sprinted back towards his friend as he had left John guarding the entrance to limit the witness' chance of escape. Unluckily for both of them the witness had been prepared for them and had a second escape route which was not on any plan.

It was thirty minutes later when John was brought in, looking a bit worse for wear but not seriously injured, thankfully. The two sat in silence for a while longer letting the events of the past few hours wash over them and sink in. It was John who broke the silence.

"Sherlock someone bloody well tried to kill us back there!" he stated staring at his friend in disbelief.

"I am well aware of that fact John…now it only remains to find the culprit and place them in prison for two counts of attempted murder as well as the murder of poor Mrs Gregory formally of Brixton." Sherlock replied in his usual confidant and sociopathic way. There was no emotion there and John wished that at least once during their friendship he would see the human Sherlock. Little did he know that beneath the façade Sherlock was hurting and struggling to process what had happened. He didn't know what was bothering him so much, he had been in numerous explosions before, but somehow this one was different and he couldn't shake the feeling of fear that now engrossed his mind.

The rest of their stay in hospital was largely uneventful with several people calling in to see them. Lestrade brought Mrs Hudson who brought cake (John was happy about this, hospital food still sucked). Molly came by briefly before her shift and Mycroft made his usual umbrella wielding visit confirming for Sherlock that the case which they had been following was indeed more complex that originally believed. They were released on the third morning and Sherlock was glad to be out of the confines of the stuffy room where his mind was stifled by thoughts of suffocating in a sea of dust and rubble.

They made their way back to Baker St. hailing a cab just outside the hospital. The trip was a chance for the cabbie to do them out of forty quid which Sherlock refused to pay on account of the fact that there was a more direct route which he could have taken. John muttered an apology to the driver and explained briefly about Sherlock.

"Don't worry about it mate…We all have heard the stories about Sherlock Holmes and taxi fares." This brought a smile to the doctor face as he imagined a group of taxi men in a room scheming to get revenge on Sherlock for not paying his fares. Sherlock was sitting on the sofa by the time John entered their living room. In John's medical opinion Sherlock didn't seem to be quite over the effects of the blast but, of course, Sherlock would never admit that, and John would never force the subject. Mrs Hudson brought them dinner once again repeating that it was a one off as she was not the housekeeper. There was a kindness in her voice though and John knew full well that she enjoyed the cooking and looking after 'her boys' every once in a while.

Later that night there was a knock on the door which John answered as Mrs Hudson was out. At first he presumed it was just another client but as he led he man up the stairs he felt the cold metal circle on his back and knew immediately the worst was not yet over for him or for Sherlock…

**A/N: I hope you enjoyed this. Let me know whether I should continue and also if you liked it by review I love getting them…Really I do!**


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N: Due to the popularity of this story I will continue! Thank you to the reviewers, alerters and favouriters! On to Chapter 2…**

**Hunted**

John's military instinct kicked in immediately and he assessed the threat in less than thirty seconds. Although his heart was telling him to fight, his mind fought the urge and he continued calmly up the stairs, slowing his step slightly. When he reached the landing he paused for a moment which earned him a rough stab in the back with the metal barrel of the weapon his assailant carried.

Sherlock listened intently to the change in his partner's step on the stairs. Something was wrong but he wasn't sure what. Normally he would have deduced the whole process by now but something was clouding his usual clearly defined mind. It was only the grunt of pain from John that raised his interest enough to make his way to the side door on their landing. Keeping out of sight he spotted John's assailant through a crack in the glass. As John reached the door handle and entered the living room, Sherlock moved stealthily, or so he thought, into an attacking position. As he raised himself to his fullest height a shout alerted the gunman to his presence and something sharp brought pain then darkness.

When Sherlock awoke he found himself, still in their rooms, but he couldn't move in any way. What was happening? His brain fought to catch up with what his senses were showing him. He was unsure of himself which caused him to panic, something which could be detrimental to his survival. He blinked away the pain and glanced around to gather more data. John was next to him, bound in the same way but seemed unharmed apart from a small bruise forming on his temple. When he realised Sherlock was conscious once more he looked relieved and nodded to the corner of the room.

"Ah Mr Holmes you are back with us. I was just informing John about how much of an inconvenience you have become in or plans. I very much regret that you did not die in the explosion. It would have been much less painful than what you will endure now," a rasping voice informed him. Suddenly Sherlock was fully alert. Death often cleared the mind of anything trivial and unimportant.

"What exactly do you believe you will achieve by killing either John or myself? Your plot is destined to fail as I have already informed my brother of your little scheme." replied Sherlock sounding more confident than he did in fact feel. The gunman seemed to see through his façade and chuckled to himself.

"Oh Sherlock if only John here knew how your lying is going to affect him. Every time you lie John will suffer and I think that it will start now! Smyth if you would be so kind!" he finished with a grin forming on his face. Out of the corner of his eye Sherlock saw a man rise from the armchair which was usually occupied by himself. He had been hidden from view until now and then the pieces fell into place. His had been the voice who had given the head's up to the gunman. As Sherlock worked through the consequences the man named Smyth moved towards the army doctor and punched him hard in the side of the head. Blood sprayed over Sherlock's face and John let out a groan of pain. He fell limp as his strength drained from his body. A stab of emotion pierced Sherlock like a knife, sentiment again filling his heart. If anything worse happened to John he would never forgive himself.

"Let's try this again Sherlock without the lying… hmm… what have you discovered about our organisation?" he asked with a warning tone.

"Nothing at all and that is the truth" Sherlock pleaded wanting his friend to be safe from any more suffering. The gunman laughed once again and nodded to Smyth who punched the doctor, harder this time. This torture continued for another hour with the gunman never believing Sherlock, and John suffering more and more as a result of each sentence which passed Sherlock's lips. Eventually the men stopped giving John time to regain consciousness and look to Sherlock with empty eyes. His strength to fight was gone and he appeared to have accepted his fate. Then his eyes brightened slightly and John glanced to the mantelpiece with urgency. Sherlock understood suddenly, as a plan began to form in his mind. It would be risky but it might just save their lives.

They had planned this idea when they had first moved into Baker St. with both men agreeing it was worth the time and effort. They had developed a mechanism which was to be used only in emergencies. This right now, indicated by John, was that time of emergency. They just had to wait for the right opportunity to arise.

The gunman and Smyth focused their attention back on the detective and the doctor before they had the chance to speak but the consent had already been given. Sherlock nodded and John gave a small grin before muttering a sentence almost in silence

"Mrs Hudson is going to kill us if they don't…"

This made Sherlock smile and without warning he fell backwards into the mantelpiece. Smyth rose unsure of what had happened but the gunman told him not to bother.

"What harm could he possibly do…it's not like he can escape". Just then John did the same thing falling as close as he could to the fireplace. If they had timed it right and if they had fallen right they would be safe from what was about to occur; if they had timed it wrong they would go the same way as the gunman and his accomplice. Sherlock flicked the hidden switch which they had installed and then all hell broke loose. Gunfire emitted from several spots around the room and explosions began to sound as metal hit metal and wood. The hunters ran for cover escaping down the stairs as they watched the room explode in front of their eyes.

Sherlock and John had prepared themselves mentally for the explosion but still it was louder than either of them could have anticipated as the debris came flying in their direction. They closed their eyes in unison as the first sirens filled their ears.

**A/N: Well there you have it...Let me know what you think! Hope you enjoyed it.**


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